“Exactly. I know that neither of us said anything to Jillian about the way that Kate sometimes likes to finagle information whenever she can.” David brought the three cups of coffee he’d brewed in the single cup coffeemaker to the small table. “Jillian was completely professional—though I have no doubt she’d relay whatever information she deemed necessary if the situation called for it.”
Robert had pulled the sugar down out of the cupboard and retrieved the cream from the fridge. Jake nodded his thanks for the cream and added a generous dollop to his cup.
Jake snickered. “By the way, don’t mention the 2012 edition of the Lusty baby boom to Morgan and Henry. Apparently they heard about it and tried to talk Tamara into joining the race. It seems the Benedicts are ahead of the Kendalls by a score of four to two, and that didn’t sit well with the flyboys.”
Robert laughed. “How did that argument work out for them?”
Jake grinned, and Robert could see the unholy glee in his cousin’s eyes. “Not well. My sister-in-law is a real little spitfire. It occurred to Adam and I last night that our eldest brothers may have spent way too much time in the military and not nearly enough out and about in the real world.”
“That could very well be true,” David mused as he dumped some sugar into his cup. “Are either of you going to enlighten them?”
Jake hid behind his cup for a moment. “No. I don’t think we’ll need to intervene. Apparently, the first person Tamara told about her husbands, shall we say, lack of marital graces, was the one person she feels most comfortable indulging in girl talk with. Mother.”
Robert shook his head slowly. “Those poor, dumb bastards.” He felt proud of the fact that he held his snicker off for at least five seconds.
“Yeah, you gotta love it,” Jake said. “Sunday dinner is going to be so interesting this week.”
“Are you selling tickets?” David asked.
“There’s a thought.” Jake set his cup down. He took a moment to stare at it, and Robert knew there was something on his mind.
Finally he looked up and nailed Robert with a very steady gaze. “I wanted to ask you if perhaps you’ve given up on going to that private club in Houston?”
Robert didn’t pretend to misunderstand his cousin. For all of his easygoing, fairly jocular ways, Jake was one of the most devoted caretakers in the family. He wasn’t asking that question for himself, or just for shits and giggles.
Robert said, “Our membership hasn’t been completely processed yet. The man who owns The Lyon’s Den—Christopher Lyons—is very careful of who’s allowed entry into his club.”
“Membership is by referral only,” David said. “A friend of ours from up north, Jordan Fitzpatrick, and another friend, Jonathan Steele, referred us.”
“And you plan to take Ms. Gillespie there?” He arched one eyebrow, and Robert understood the sign of displeasure.
Robert fought the impulse to tell his cousin to mind his own business. In a way, Jake was doing just that. “You can ask her about it, if you like, though I would hope you’d do so privately and in a manner that wouldn’t embarrass her.”
Jake met his gaze for a long moment. “I guess I have some reading to do. I think of my Ginny, and what she went through at the hands of Deke Walters, and it just pisses me off.”
Robert had more than a passing acquaintance with what his cousins’ fiancée had endured at the hands of her abuser—mostly because Adam had called him, not long after they’d decided to court Ginny—peppering him with questions he hadn’t been comfortable asking of either of Robert’s fathers.
In the process, Robert had obtained access to the medical and legal files, something he would never let Ginny know, if he could help it.
He shook his head at Jake. “There is absolutely no comparison between what Ginny went through and what is involved in a good, healthy D/s relationship. None whatsoever.”
David reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. He quickly wrote something down and then tore the sheet off and handed it to Jake. “Here’s a website you can go to. It lists books, other references, including studies done on the healthy D/s dynamic. There are also essays posted, written by both Doms and subs. It will give you a better idea of what the lifestyle is all about.”
“Our watchwords are ‘safe, sane, and consensual.’ The idea that a Dom beats his submissive is completely off the mark. A Dom’s first concern is for the health and well-being of his submissive, Jake.”
Jake seemed to relax at that. “I had to wonder, knowing you as I do.”
Robert wasn’t surprised that this particular cousin knew him so well. Jake was a master at appearing low-key and laid-back. His façade disguised his keen intellect and sharp wit.
He nodded at his cousin’s acknowledgement. Then he said, “Feel free to speak to Jillian. Go ahead and assure yourself that she’s all right.”
Jake took a sip from his coffee, and then gave Robert the smile that all the mothers had agreed, in their youth, spelled trouble. “Don’t worry. I plan to.”
Robert met David’s gaze, and shrugged. No, Jake’s reactions didn’t surprise them in the least.
* * * *
Jillian made sure she was back at her desk exactly on time. This was only her second day on the job, after all. But she was one of those people who obeyed the rules, always. Her ex-husband had once chided her that if she’d come to a stop sign in the middle of nowhere, with not another car in sight, she’d still stop her vehicle.
She hadn’t understood his issue with that. That was the way she was. She wasn’t stupid, neither was she a chicken or any of the other negative things he’d always called her. She never colored outside the lines, neither did she run with scissors. She followed the rules and felt most secure when she could operate within specific, identified boundaries.
Huh. That’s exactly what I’m like. How is it I never was able to define myself so clearly before now?
Jillian stared at her computer monitor but wasn’t looking at the data. She was looking inside herself with a clarity and a comfort she’d never known before. She thought back to that first afternoon, when Robert and David had stopped her before she’d run herself into the ground, literally. Robert had said something then that no one had ever said to her. And somehow, since then, his words had taken root, and grown strong within her. Not two full days, but already, so much had changed within her.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. Being a sub is just your nature, sweetheart. It’s just the way you are and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”
Her nature. Like the way she enjoyed doing things for others, and the way she always put the needs of the people in her life ahead of her own.
Jillian shook her head. When it was break time later this afternoon, she’d take a minute and do some of that Internet surfing, and read about Doms, and subs, and whatever else took her fancy.
For right now, she had work to do.
She had the schedule for the doctors and had to grin when she saw just how often the senior Drs. Jessop planned to be in over the next month. Shirley had snickered when she’d mentioned that both Adam and James Jessop had affirmed they were going to slow down, let their sons take over.
Shirley hadn’t believed it for one moment. Jillian was coming to the conclusion that her aunt had been right.
The patient schedule looked steady but not heavy for every day that week—which left lots of space for any emergencies that might crop up.
Jillian had heard quite a bit about this clinic over the years from Shirley. Their profession was just one of the things they had in common, and it was a big common denominator. She knew that ranchers from miles around would avail themselves of the services here. Ranching and farming were both considered high-risk occupations, and accidents, unfortunately, happened. She knew from looking over the past files and from conversations with her aunt over the years that there’d been occasions when one or both of the doctors had been called upon to mak
e a house, or ranch, or farm call.
Jillian had the entire month’s schedule in front of her. Robert and David would be here at the clinic this week and next, and then after that they would rotate weeks between here and Mercy Hospital in Waco. She knew that Robert would be joining the surgical team, while David would join the staff of the gynecology department.
Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and when she looked up, David came to stand front and center.
“I was just reviewing the calendar.”
“You look confused about something, baby.”
Jillian double-checked the waiting room to ensure that it was still empty. She met David’s cheeky grin and shook her head. She should have known he wouldn’t risk embarrassing her like that. If there had been someone else in the room, he’d have just called her by name.
She nodded. “I am confused. You’re both only going to be working every other week in Waco. I’m just surprised the hospital has given you such a relaxed schedule.”
“Well, we’re working there for free, so they let us choose our hours. They were really happy we were going to be there as often as every other week.”
“You’re working for free? I mean, I can see donating your time to a free clinic, or, hell, even doing a stint with Doctors without Borders. But a major city hospital, and on a permanent basis?”
“Well, we don’t really need the money, honey.”
She guessed he read the shock in her face because he said, “What, you didn’t know we were a couple of trust fund babies?”
Shirley had once told her that most of the members of the founding families were rich, but she’d honestly forgotten that fact until now.
Jillian shook her head, laughing as much at his antics as she was at herself. “No, I really didn’t know. And no, you certainly don’t act the part, either of you.”
Robert came around the corner at that point. He must have heard the conversation because he said, “Of course we don’t. We all had any notions we may have had of acting like entitled little brats disciplined out of us when we were kids.”
“Remember how shocked we were when we turned twenty-five and got our inheritances?” David asked.
“Yeah, and I remember how quickly we got over it, saw to reinvesting the funds, and went about relocating our asses to begin our next rotation—orthopedics, I think it was—in Atlanta.”
Jillian just shook her head. Then she said, “Shirley told me how well she did with her own nest egg, thanks to some sound advice from Alex and Joshua Benedict. I have some money socked away in a term account that comes due next year. I already wasn’t very happy with my fund management. Maybe I’ll move it.”
“We’ll ask Jake to set you up with Derek O’Connor. He’s manager of the Town Trust’s investment fund. He could likely give you whatever tips and help you need.”
“O’Connor?” Jillian would have been willing to bet someone in such a position of responsibility would be a Jessop, Kendall, or Benedict.
David grinned. “He’s actually a cousin, too. His mom was a Kendall, and she married an O’Connor. Derek was with a huge firm in New York before he moved to Texas. The families are glad to have him. I heard Mom say the man seems to have the Midas touch.”
“I wasn’t just busting into the middle of your conversation,” Robert said. “I just noticed there’s a light out in exam room three. Could you call Jake and have him send Phil around?”
“Of course.” Jillian reached for the phone. David placed his hand over hers.
“I can certainly change a light bulb. Hell, I used to work on the maintenance crew when I was in high school, remember? I was the man in demand…I was the cool dude with the ’tude who knew how to turn it on or change it out…” He looked up from his blatantly “macho-teen” routine and blushed.
“He certainly was something in high school,” Robert said. “Can you imagine what it was like for me back then?”
Jillian could see that he was struggling to contain his laughter. She grinned and could just picture the young, into-his-hormones stud David had been.
She looked at David. “Let me guess, you went around in the summer, shirt off, tool belt hanging at a cocky angle around your waist.”
David laughed. “Hey. Believe it or not, it got me dates. That’s all I’m saying.” He smiled, and then said, “I saw some fluorescent bulbs in the back supply cabinet. I’ll just go and change the light now. It’s nearly the end of patient appointments, anyway.”
There was one gentleman in with Dr. Adam, and an older woman with Dr. James. Checking the schedule, Jillian saw there were only two more appointments booked that day, both for two thirty, a good twenty minutes away.
Shirley had mentioned that as the doctors tended to be prompt, most folks would only arrive a couple of minutes before their appointment times, which ended by three in the afternoon most days.
The rest of the average work day would be spent, by the doctors, in reading test results that arrived by Internet or mail, checking with colleagues on referrals, and doing any number of sundry tasks. The clinic’s doctors subscribed to several different medical journals and spent time every day reading and staying abreast of changes in their fields.
A few times a year they attended conferences, and sometimes even took specialized courses of study.
All this Jillian knew from years of being in communication with Shirley, a woman who didn’t completely understand the town she lived in but who nonetheless admired its citizens.
“David and I were wondering if you’d like to go out to eat, tonight. You know, a real dinner, that consists of more than one course?”
Jillian grinned. “That would be nice, but I can just as easily throw something—”
A large crash and the sound of shattering glass were followed closely by the epithet “Oh, fuck, that hurts.”
Jillian catapulted from her chair at a full run, heading toward David several steps behind Robert. Her heart was in her throat as she wondered what had happened to him.
By the sounds of it, nothing good. She told her inner voice to shut up and not borrow trouble. The first thing she saw when she entered exam room three was Robert, his hand gripping his brother’s right wrist, leading him over toward the sink. Rivulets of blood decorated the table, the floor, and David.
“Stupid, stupid,” David muttered as his brother turned on the water, irrigated the wounds, and began to inspect the damage. “I used the table to stand on without checking that the brakes were on, first.”
“And then, what, forgot to let go of the light when you fell?” Robert bit out his words, his tone terse.
“Yeah, I think it’s karma biting my ass for bragging a few moments ago.”
“At the moment I don’t care about your ass, it’s your hand I’m worried about.”
Robert’s tone sounded off to Jillian. In a flash she understood that his brother being injured hurt him in some way that was deep and real, and something he didn’t have any defense against. Jillian didn’t understand all that went through Robert’s head, but she was beginning to get a pretty good idea.
Research into the D/s psychology had just moved to the head of the list, right behind helping now.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Do we have an empty room?”
“What’s all this?”
Jillian looked over her shoulder at the older man who stood at the doorway taking in the mess of the room. Adam Jessop was shaking his head. “We have a service that comes in to change the lights, son.”
“Room one is just now available,” Jillian said. “I’ll go get it ready. Give me two minutes.”
They had sterile suture trays on hand, and she grabbed one from the shelf as she headed toward room one. It took her barely a minute to change the paper on the exam bed, set the tray on the wheeled cart, and get a couple of chairs in place. She set the box of sterile gloves, gauze and disinfectant out.
She wasn�
��t a nurse, but in her former position she’d helped with prep work often enough that she knew what was needed.
Robert led David into the room, still having hold of his hand. Jillian remembered there was a pair of micro goggles on the shelf and rushed out, bringing them in just as James Jessop joined the group.
“Here, these might help.” It had been a fluorescent bulb that had shattered in his hand. Jillian recalled dropping one of those once and the number of tiny glass slivers was enormous.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“You’re welcome.”
Robert didn’t look up from his examination of his brother’s injury. Now that some of the blood had been rinsed off she could see there were a couple of really bad cuts and a bunch of tiny nicks.
Robert and David moved so David could sit on the stool. Dr. Adam took the wrapping off the suture tray. Robert picked up a pair of tweezers and began removing the pieces of glass. The small light that one of his fathers had moved into place made the job simpler. Robert worked methodically and quickly.
Jillian laid one hand on David’s shoulder and rubbed. He took a moment to tilt his head so his cheek made contact with her hand.
“You okay?” she asked him.
“Yeah, hurts a bit. Mostly I feel stupid. Don’t worry about me, baby. It’s not as bad as it could have been.”
“How many more patients do we have coming in today?” Dr. James asked.
Jillian knew the question was asked of her. “Just two and they’re due in about ten minutes.
Dr. Adam nodded. “James and I will take them, then.”
“Yes, sir.” Jillian wanted to stay and help take care of David, but she knew he was in good hands. She gave David’s shoulder one more squeeze, and then excused herself. She needed to get to her desk. It wouldn’t do to have patients arrive with no one to greet them.
Still, she took a moment, just outside the exam room door to breathe deeply and gather her wits.
“You work pretty fast,” Dr. James said.
“No, I’ve taken my time. There’s not much glass left here. Don’t worry, I’ll get it all.”
Love Under Two Doctors Page 18
